


I need to tell you something

by mynameisnotmac



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Dean, Caring Dean, Cuddles, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Wincest, Sick Sam, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 02:04:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnotmac/pseuds/mynameisnotmac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam needs Dean, even when he doesn't want to.  Set right after #thinman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I need to tell you something

“Dean?”

Dean’s eyes fluttered open. Had he heard something? No he must just be imagining it. He closed his eyes and rolled over, already half asleep.

“Dean?”

His eyes opened again, and he nearly jumped off of the opposite end of the bed in surprise. Sam was sitting on the floor by his bed, staring at him. He wasn’t saying anything, he just sat there, sniffling occasionally. Dean flopped onto the bed, sprawling out for a moment before propping himself up on an elbow and looking at the clock.

“Sam,” He groaned, “it’s two in the morning. What are you doing here?” Sam sniffed again before speaking in a rough, shaky voice.

“I, I need to talk to you.” Dean’s eyebrows knit together. Sam didn’t really want to have anything to do with him at the moment. Sighing, he reached over and clicked on his bedside lamp. The crease in his brow got deeper as he took in his not so little brother. He was very pale and his hazel eyes were rimmed with red, although Dean couldn’t tell if it was from the tears streaming down his face or from a fever.

“Sam, are you sick?” Dean asked, sitting up and facing his brother. Sam scrunched up his face and coughed into his arm before shaking his head.

“No,” He replied hoarsely. “I just need to tell you something.” Dean wasn’t convinced but he let it slide for the moment.

“Alright,” He said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m listening.” Sam didn’t say anything at first, he just grabbed Dean’s wrist and held on tight. That was the sign that something was really wrong.

One time, when Sam was three he reached out for his brother’s hand like he always did. But now that Dean was all grown up at the age of seven so that wasn’t going to fly anymore. Dean promptly told his brother that there would be no more hand holding. Unfazed, Sam simply reached out and grabbed Dean’s wrist. And didn’t let go. 

Over the years when Sam was sick or scared or even just sad, he would reach for Dean’s wrist, a sign that said ‘I need you.’ Once Sam grew up a little more, the wrist holding petered out as Sam was a teenager now, and teenagers didn’t need their older brothers. But on really bad nights, after a horrific nightmare or a high fever, Sam’s fingers always found their way around Dean’s wrist; even if Sam would never admit it. It had been four years since it happened last.

Dean reached over with his free hand and smoothed some of Sam’s sweat soaked hair. Sam closed his watery eyes and leaned into his touch.

“What is it Sammy? What’s wrong?” Sam sniffed again.

“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore.” He said before beginning to sob. Dean knelt down in front of Sam and moved his hand from Sam’s head to his shaking shoulder. Sam buried his face in Dean’s shoulder and let go of his wrist to wrap him in a bone crushing embrace; or at least it would have been bone crushing if Sam had been able to stop shaking. Dean wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his back, attempting to soothe him.

“Shhhh Sammy, it’s ok.” Sam shook his head and continued to wet Dean’s shirt with tears.

“No it’s not,” He sobbed. “I’m still mad at you, but I don‘t want to lose you. I don’t want to be like Ed and Harry. I need my brother.” This is the part that put tears in Dean’s eyes. He squeezed Sam even tighter.

“Don’t worry Sam, you’re not going to lose me, I’m not going anywhere, everything’s going to be alright.”

“But I said horrible things. I’m mad and I don’t mean them, but I say them. Eventually you’re going to leave because I’m so bitter.” 

“I’m never going to leave you Sam, you know that. I deserve all those horrible things you say. It’s my fault. I did a terrible thing; I don’t regret it, but it was terrible. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. Everything’s ok, I’m not leaving any time soon.”

Nothing Dean said seemed to make a difference though. Sam just continued to babble and sob, to the point where it started to worry Dean. He pulled away from the embrace enough to feel Sam’s forehead. It felt like it was on fire.

“Shit Sam! We need to fix this, like now.” Dean started to get up, but Sam was really out of it at that point and clung to him.

“Don’t go Dee, Don’t go!” He was getting even more worked up. In an effort to calm him down, Dean wrapped one arm around Sam’s shoulder blades and stroked his hair with the other.

“Shhhh, You need to calm down Sammy, ok? You’re going to make yourself sick. You've gotta breathe kid.” 

Dean managed to get Sam’s breathing to a fairly normal pace with only the occasional hiccup. He then took him by the elbows and helped him into a standing position. Sam immediately sagged heavily against him. Dean briefly wondered how Sam had gotten here in the first place, or how long he’d been feeling sick, before making the slow journey to the bathroom. Once there he sat Sam down on the closed toilet and started running cool water in the bathtub. He then began searching the cupboards for the thermometer.

“Open up Sammy.” He said, holding out the white and blue stick. Sam looked confused for a minute before he processed what Dean was saying and opened his mouth. When it beeped Dean took it back and read 102.7 on the little green screen. He sighed. “Well this ain't good.”

“What’s not good?” Sam mumbled, looking at Dean expectantly. Dean tried to smile reassuringly and patted Sam’s shoulder.

“Nothing,” he replied, “You’re just running a little warm, that’s all.” Sam smiled at him, still dazed.

“It’s ok, Dean will fix it.” Dean patted his shoulder again.

“Yes I will.” The tub was full enough now so Dean turned the taps off and helped Sam into the tub. He didn't bother undressing him; it was too much of a hassle. Sam looked up at him with large eyes.

“It’s cold Dee!” He cried out while trying to climb out of the bathtub. Dean pushed his shoulders down and made him sit.

“I know Sammy, but we have to get this fever down. You can get out soon ok?” Sam’s muscles were still tense beneath Dean’s fingers but he nodded and let Dean scoop cool water over his head, only whimpering occasionally. Soon Sam was soaked and shivering but he wasn’t as hot.

Dean laid a towel on the ground before hauling Sam out of the tub and sitting him on the floor. He wrapped another towel around his shoulders and used yet another to ruffle his hair to try and dry it out a bit.

“Hang tight Sammy, I’ll be right back.” Sam nodded, coming to it a little more. Dean headed out the door and hurried to Sam’s room. Then grabbing the first pair of sweats and t-shirt he saw, he made a U turn back towards Sam.

Sam had managed to get out of his wet shirt by the time Dean arrived. He set the clothes down beside his brother. 

“Think you can manage to put these on by yourself?” He asked. Sam nodded. He was starting to look a little better. Dean patted him on the shoulder and turned around; partly because he wanted to give Sam some privacy, and partly to look for Tylenol in the medicine cabinet. After locating some he filled Sam’s bathroom cup with water.

“You almost done Sammy?” 

“Yeah, I’m finished.” Sam said. Dean turned around to see him trying to get up so he wasn’t sitting in a puddle anymore. However, the fever was making him sluggish and that was making things hard. Big brother Dean swooped in then and took Sam by the elbow, helping him up and then sitting him back down on the toilet. Sam’s eyes began to droop. Dean patted his cheek.

“Hey buddy, don’t fall asleep on me yet. I need you to take this for me.” Dean handed Sam a couple pills and the glass of water. Sam swallowed them without asking what they are, trusting that Dean had something to make him feel better.

“Can I go to sleep now?” Sam mumbled quietly. Dean smiled and helped him up.

“Yeah, come on, let’s put you to bed.” Dean led the way to Sam’s bedroom, Sam leaning heavily on him the whole time. It took awhile, but finally Dean had Sam lying down and was pulling the blankets up over him. Sam nestled right in. Dean patted him on the head and turned to go when he heard Sam’s sleepy voice.

“Where you going Dee?” Dean looked back at Sam who’s staring up at him like he’s confused. “Aren't you going to stay?”

“Do you want me to stay?” He asked. Sam nods so fast Dean’s sure his heads gonna fall off. “Ok then.”

Dean peeled back the covers and crawled into bed. Sam immediately snuggles up to him.

“Thanks for not leaving me Dee.” He said before he fell asleep. Dean just kissed the top of his head in response.

The next morning Sam was already gone when Dean woke up. Dean found him in the kitchen, looking much better and eating a bowl of cereal. He didn't acknowledge Dean, or even look at him. So Dean just poured his own Cheerios and sat down beside him. Sam still didn't look and Dean, or say anything. But after a few minutes he grabbed Dean’s wrist and gave a small smile. And that’s when Dean knew that things were on their way to being ok again.


End file.
